Of Mushrooms and Balrogs
by darkkalea
Summary: Pippin and Merry are off in search of mushrooms, followed by a sleepless Elf. Sinkholes and misfortune await!
1. The Search for Mushrooms and Slumber

**Of Mushrooms and Balrogs**

**Acknowledgements:** Mostly I would like to thank my beta, Kementari, for her assistance in content and grammar. I would also like to apologize to several of my friends since I spent many hours shoving this thing down their throats in an effort to get their opinions on it.

**Warning**: I'm not Tolkien and I don't own any of the characters. I'm sure that you're pretty used to this spiel by now, right?

**Chapter 1: The Search for Mushrooms and Slumber**

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1"Psst! Merry, wake up."

_Just pretend that you're asleep and he'll go away._

"Merry!" The whispering became more urgent and two hands began shaking his shoulders.

_Don't react... need sleep..._

"I know you're awake, Merry." The voice whispered next to his ear. "Your face is twitching."

With a nearly inaudible grumble, Merry opened his eyes and blinked. The fire had died down to mere embers and the twilight had been replaced by complete and utter darkness. The only light came from a small lantern held in the grimy hand of Peregrin Took.

"Pip- PIN!" Merry growled, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "It's been a long, long day. And tomorrow will be a long, long day. And the next day and the next and the next. In those many hours," he held up his hand to silence Pippin's expected interruption. "I'm sure that we'll find plenty of time to make all the mischief in the world. So why don't you let me sleep?"

The other Hobbit chuckled. "I'm not out for mischief, Merry. I'm out for grub and I'll wager that you might be feeling a mite peckish yourself." Even in his half-asleep state, Merry's eyes widened in response.

"You said it!" Pippin's pleased face suddenly clenched up in a wince at the volume of his friend's voice. "Sorry," Merry whispered sheepishly. It would not do to speak so loudly when there was at least one being with extremely long-range hearing about, mainly Legolas. But a quick glance around proved that the Elf wasn't in sight. "I've been wondering how these Men grew to be so tall when they eat so little!"

"True. How many meals do we get a day? One in the morning and one at night? They don't even have names! How do we know what meal we're eating if we don't know what they're called?"

"Dunno," yawned Merry, drawing his blankets around him to ward off the cold night. "Pip, I don't think that you woke me up to discuss food."

"I didn't. We don't have any food to discuss and _that is the reason I woke you up."_

"What?"

"You and I are goin' to find something to eat."

"Out there?" Merry gazed off into the endless woods. "It's dark!"

"That's what Strider's light-thingy is for. We'll be able to see anything long before it gets to us."

Merry glanced disdainfully at the small light source. "Sure, we'll be able to see it right before it pounces on us and turns us into Hobbit biscuits. Nothing doing, Pippin. I'm not _that hungry."_

"I thought that I would never live to the day when Meriadoc Brandybuck refused to accept a challenge. To go places where no Hobbit has gone before."

"I think that my self-preservation reflex kicked in just in time. Now go back to back to sleep already." Merry flopped back down on his makeshift pallet. There was a pause, then another whisper.

"I know where there are mushrooms…"

Sitting bolt upright, Merry turned slowly to his companion. "You do know what's going to happen to you if it turns out you are joking, don't you?"

"Of course. But would I joke of such a thing?" Pippin's large, innocent eyes glowed in the feeble light. "C'mon, Merry. Trust me on this one."

Merry could feel his defenses slowly weakening. He hadn't had a mushroom since the Company had left the Last Homely House in Rivendell.

"You sure you know where they are?"

"Positive."

"How positive?"

"Quite positive."

"Really?"

"I remember the trail back like I remember the back of my own hand." Merry's last misgivings about Pippin's idea popped quietly out of existence.

"Fine," he sighed, clumsily getting up from his pallet. Running his fingers through his curly hair, he stared out into the forbidding woods. "So we, ah, just go out there and get 'em?"

"That's the plan. Now, let's get going and nobody will ever know that we were gone."

**

That's where Pippin was wrong. Unbeknownst to the scavenging Hobbits, someone had been listening into their entire conversation. This someone was currently shifting on a tree branch high above the ground, trying to capture the sleep that had been eluding him for the last week.

Things had not been going well for Legolas Greenleaf and it was all due to the fact that he just could not slip into the Elven world of dreams. Nothing he had attempted seemed to work. He had tried lying on the ground, high up in a tree, and standing up. He had even endeavored to close his eyes in that barbaric way that worked for the Men, Hobbits, and the Dwarf. All that had given him was a headache and a bad case of the shakes.

A week of not sleeping was beginning to take its toll on the Elf, who had been used to at least a regular night's rest. After two days he hadn't been able to retie his braids with his trembling fingers, getting his normally nimble digits painfully knotted in his long hair. After four days he had walked into a tree and had to nurse a bleeding nose for the rest of the day.

But today had been, by far, the worst. While walking on a narrow log bridge over a deep creek, one of the Hobbits had accidentally bumped him. Normally this wouldn't have affected the agile Elf one bit, but in his sleep-deprived state, he had tumbled head-over-heels into the water.

It also hadn't helped that his hair band snapped, letting hair descend in a curtain over his face. At least he hadn't been able to see the rest of the Fellowship laughing at him. Unfortunately, he could hear it. Gimli's booming voice still echoed in his ears.

_Ye'd__ never see a Dwarf__ take a tumble like that one, eh? Aye, pompous Elves ain't all they're cracked t'be._

"Insipid Dwarf," Legolas murmured to himself, hugging his arms to his sides. "I will show _him_ 'pompous'…"

With a deep sigh, he gazed off into the darkness and shivered. There it was again… the old fear…

A scramble through the fallen leaves on the ground below him shook him out of his reverie. Shifting on his branch, he flipped over so that he was hanging by his knees from the tree limb and listened intently. The sound continued, complete with an intermittent hiss urging something to be quieter.

"Hobbits," the Elf muttered, sighing again. "What are they up to now?" The darkness was so absolute that it was difficult to spot the two renegade Fellowship members, even for eyes such as Legolas's.

_Dark._ A shiver blasted its way up his spine, loosening his limbs for a second. That quick burst of time was enough to cause his knees to lose their grip on the branch and for Legolas to fall to the ground in a heap.

"_Valar__…"_

**

"Are you sure you know where you're going, Pippin?" Merry asked irritably after stubbing his toe for the fifth time on a tree root.

"Would I ever lead you astray?"

"Don't tempt me to answer that."

"Just let the thought of fresh mushrooms keep you going, Merry." The other Hobbit replied, stopping to check out his surroundings. One glance about proved that it was a futile effort, as all of the forest appeared the same in the dark. "The mushrooms I saw were like no other. At least, I've never seen them at home or around the Shire."

"Are they safe to eat? I thought- ow! PIPPIN! Don't stop without telling me! My head…"

"Sorry."

"You should be." Merry picked himself off the ground, trying to brush away the dirt that was all but invisible on his clothing. "And about those wild mushrooms…"

"Oh _please_, Merry. There is no such thing as a poisonous mushroom!" The younger Hobbit shuddered at such blasphemy. "No one has ever died from eating a mushroom." 

"Perhaps not, but remember Bolo and Barilac?"

Pippin frowned as he continued to search for the darkened path. "Who?"

"Bolo Bumbleroot and Barilac Sandydowns. They had a party and introduced that new mushroom that they found in the forest. Remember? The one with all the colors?" Merry leaned against a tree, massaging his aching toes. "They were the only ones silly enough to eat those things and look how _they_ turned out!"

"Hmmm…" replied Pippin absently. _Now where did that path go? Didn't up and run away, did it?_

"They started wearing those black rags and that horrid black lip color. And they wouldn't smoke the pipe anymore! Poisonous mushrooms could severely affect our personalities."

"Hmmm."

"You didn't listen to a word I said, did you? You don't even know where you're going!"

"W-what? Of course I know where we're going," squeaked Pippin, finally facing the looming possibility that they were indeed lost.

"No you don't! You led us on a wild goose chase and now look at us! Stranded in the middle of a forest with no idea where we are and not a mushroom to our names!"

"M-merry," Pippin stuttered as he back away slowly, thrusting the lantern out before him to ward of his friend's enraged advance. "Now don't panic."

"Panic? PANIC! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I'M PANICKING? This isn't PANICKING! This is a step right below PANICKING! You'll see PANICKING in just a moment when I-"

The ground fell away from his feet and the wind swept by his ears as he plummeted downwards.

**~TBC~**

**Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. There's more to come. Please click on that happy little review box if you wish to give comments, criticism, or complaints. Thanks!**


	2. Deep Holes and Flying Elves

**Acknowledgements:** Again, thanks to my dear beta. I would also like to thank everyone that reviewed. You made my day.

**Warning:** I'm not Tolkien and I don't own any of the characters. I'm sure that you're pretty used to this spiel by now, right?

**Chapter 2: Deep Holes and Flying Elves**

As he came to, Merry began to notice that it was significantly colder than it had been a few minutes before. With a shudder, he sat up and rubbed his head.

_What happened?_

"Merry?" A quiet voice groaned beside him. "You all right?"

"Aside from a few broken bones, suppose I'm ok."

"Good. Look!" The world seemed to glow a moment as the lantern was raised to eye level, revealing Pippin's pained, yet smiling face. "I saved the light-thingy."

"Huzzah. Where _are_ we?" Merry moved his gaze upwards. The navy sky stood out against the black trees. There was not a star in sight.

He heard Pippin laugh shortly beside him. "Looks like a hole to me."

"How did we get here?" The older Hobbit glanced at the bottom of the hole. The feeble light from the lantern displayed scattered tree needles and displaced dirt. "Was there a cave-in or something?"

"Dunno."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"You don't know where we are, do you?" Merry ventured, plucking a lead from his hair.

"Not a clue."

"Just checking. I guess we just wait then."

More silence.

"Do you think they'll notice that we left?"

"Who? The Company?"

"Well, yes."

"It is my belief that they'll notice that there is a significant drop in complaints about the lack of food," replied a wry voice.

Merry and Pippin stared at each other from across the lantern light.

"Up here."

Slowly, they raised their eyes to the sky. A silhouette leaned over the edge of the giant hole. A surprisingly familiar silhouette.

"Legolas!" Merry cried warmly. "Are we glad to see you!"

Pippin's insides roiled at the sudden thought of being rescued by the quiet Elf, a blow to his self-respect. "Even though we were just about to figure our way out of this hole without you," he muttered, then yelped as Merry smacked him in the arm. The silhouette shifted and sighed.

"What are you doing down there, master Hobbits? Find any mushrooms?" The Elf's voice was devoid of emotion, tinged only slightly with weariness. The Hobbits glanced at each other sheepishly, deciding not to answer. "Well, I suppose you want out, then?"

"Yes… that would be wonderful." As Legolas disappeared, Merry turned to Pippin and glared. "Be nice! He's helping us out!"

"He isn't helping my pride. This is embarrassing," Pippin complained, grabbing the lantern. "Strider will be wanting this back."

Merry nodded in agreement, then winced as a heavy rope conked him on the head.

"Oops." Legolas said mildly from above. "Didn't see you there."

"This night gets worse and worse," muttered Merry, gripping the rope and preparing to haul himself up.

"Hey! Why do you get to go up first?" The outraged sound of Pippin's voice broke through the air. His brain nearly frozen, Merry said the first thing that came to mind.

"Because I'm the oldest, that's why."

"But I'm the youngest! I've not even come of age yet."

"So? This experience with build character."

"I've already got enough character. I've got character coming out of my ears!" The Hobbit ran over and grasped the rope right above Merry's hands. "'Sides, I'm charming. You should never deprive the world of charm such as this."

"Oh, you had to dig for that one, didn't you? Get back down here!" Merry yanked Pippin down as he tried to scramble up the dirt walls.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Nooooo!"

Above the struggling Hobbits, Legolas was trying vainly to keep a hold on the rope. His addled hands couldn't grip properly.

Elbereth, _why must I deal with this?_

"Could you two not-"

With a snap and a jerk the Elf was flung out into empty space. Time seemed suspended for one moment when he was totally weightless, then FWAP! His body came to rest facedown in the soft soil.

There was a moment of silence, then a whisper from Pippin reached his ears.

"Wait 'til we tell Sam that Elves can fly! Won't he be excited?"

Legolas growled and lifted himself up from the dirt, rolling into a sitting position. The ledge where he had previously been standing seemed to be a thousand miles away. They were trapped in the hole.

Just when things couldn't possibly get much worse, Legolas's newly repaired hair tie chose that moment to snap again.

After the watching the raging Elf for a minute, Merry leaned over to Pippin, who had coils of the rope draped over him. "You don't happen to know any Elvish, do you?"

"If I did, I wouldn't even obscenities to translate for you."

"Hmmmm. Legolas, it's not the end of the world or anything, being trapped in this hole."

No answer.

"I agree," Pippin chimed in cheerily. "Strider will find us in the morning."

"How do I manage to get into these things?" Legolas muttered, raking his hair from his face. All he had been required to do in Imladris was explain to Lord Elrond about the unfortunate escape of the creature Gollum and ride home. But nooooo… he had to defend Aragorn's honor before the Council and effectively guilt trip himself into travelling to Mordor on this endless mission. And _now_ he was in a hole with two Hobbits. Definitely enough misery to last him several centuries.

On the upside, at least he wasn't stuck with the Dwarf…

"How?" asked Pippin with a confused voice. "You fell in. Same way we all got in here. What?" He glanced at Merry, the familiar face of his friend far more comforting than the withering stare that was currently coming from the Elf. "Did I say something wrong?"

Merry, by nature, was more observant of the moods around him than the flamboyant Pippin. It wasn't difficult for him to pick up the waves of irritation that were radiating from Legolas. The fact that Merry could almost feel the daggers shooting into his chest clued him in.

Perhaps I should snap him out of it… 

"Legolas, uhm, this isn't such a big deal for you, is it? I mean, you _are_ an Elf and you kind of live in the woods on a regular basis."

"Big deal? I should think not!" The Elf prince scrambled to his feet and brushed the debris from his clothing. "For an Elf of Mirkwood a night in the forest is… is…" _So this is what being at a loss for words feels like. "It's like… I don't know. But it is definitely not a, as you say, big deal." His voice finished a good octave higher than usual._

"Are you sure you're alright?" Merry persisted, lifting the lantern up higher so that he could a better look. "You've a twig in your hair."

Legolas's hand swiftly snatched the offending twig and threw it out of sight into the dark. "Thank you," he said tersely.

"Are you nervous?" Pippin asked, cocking his head to the side. "Your hands are shaking."

"Would you kindly stop asking me questions and making observations before I can answer the aforementioned questions?" His shout echoed through the trees and off into the moonless, starless night. "Really, master Hobbits, I am quite fine. Just a bit shaken from my fall and- oh no."

"Oh no what? What? What is it?" Pippin spun around to stare into the darkness behind him. "Do you hear something?"

"Can you not feel it?" The Elf's voice was heavy.

"Feel what?"

"The moisture in the air. There is rain on the wind."

"Oh." Merry clucked his tongue against his teeth. "That's not good."

**~ More to come. ~**

**Hope that you found this entertaining. Again, thanks for the reviews!**


	3. Tales in the Dark

**Acknowledgements:** Beta, readers… you know the drill.

**Warning:** Not Tolkien, don't own his characters.

**Chapter 3: Tales in the Dark**

Fifteen minutes later, Legolas was huddled against the dirt walls of their prison, a Hobbit pressed on either side of him. The hole's floor was rapidly becoming a swirl of mud which was steadily encroaching on the prisoners of nature.

Shivering, the Elf gazed up into the black sky and sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. A prickly chill was crawling up his spine, a harsh reminder of the familiar fear that lurked in his heart. Every so often his exhausted eyes thought they spied a flash of flame and brimstone and he twitched back against the muddy the walls until the remaining rational portion of his brain realized that it was only Strider's stolen lantern.

_Strange_, he mused, _even during my panic I wasn't this afraid.  _

"How is the lantern doing, Peregrin?" he asked on impulse. Pippin looked up al him, his curly hair dripping water on to his nose.

"Seems alright. The candle won't last us the night, though."

"It won't? Legolas could feel his chest tighten, pushing all of the breath from his lungs. "Why not?"

Pippin raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Why, the wick's bound to burn down sometime!"

_Less emotion, less suspicion! _Legolas forced a smile. A nonchalant smile, he hoped. "I do not believe that Aragorn will be too pleased when he finds out that his lantern has burnt to nothing."

"I'll just turn on the ol' Took charm… like this!" Pippin's face stretched into a grin and he fluttered his eyelashes. With a sigh, Merry reached over Legolas and shoved his friend over into the mud.

"That's the only way to get him out of such a goofy mood," he explained, settling back into his place.

The Took sat straight up, sending an icy glare over at Merry.

"Alright, Brandybuck! You asked for it!" A squeal of rage erupted from the Hobbit, his face just barely visible through his impromptu mud mask.

"P-pippin, Merry stuttered.

"Peregrin…" gaped Legolas, knowing what the Hobbit was going to do. "Do not-"

Too late. Pippin launched himself to his feet and went at Merry, tromping Legolas's abdomen roughly with his bare feet. A strangled noise wrenched from the Elf's throat as stars spangled in front of his eyes.

Elbereth…

"Not the eyes! Not the eyes!"

"You like the mud, eh? Well, then have a mouth-full!"

"Bleeeeeeeech!"

"Oh _Valar_, that's _enough_!" The two Hobbits paused at Legolas's cry, Pippin with a fist-full of mud and Merry with his arms desperately flung over his face. "It will hear you!"

Silence.

"What will hear us?" Pippin wondered out loud, lowering his arm. Merry peeked out between his arms. The sight that greeted them was, to put it lightly, very odd. And a bit frightening.

The sight was Legolas, his shoulders heaving with the combined effort of fear and the fact that he had just gotten every molecule of air knocked out of his lungs. His Elven skin seemed sallow and his hair was in a state of disarray. But perhaps the gleam in his eyes was what was truly alarming, a glinting mixture of terror, fatigue, and panic sweeping through them. He raised one trembling finger to his lips and shushed his companions with one swift breath.

"_It," he hissed, "it will steal our souls!"_

"What is _it_?"

The Elf opened his mouth, then closed it again, clutching his arms in an attempt to keep them still.

"Ah, Twenty Questions?" suggested Pippin, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm game. Is it edible?" Legolas gave him a long look, then turned away, muttering in Elvish.

"Not helping, Pip," Merry informed the other Hobbit. They both lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

Legolas drew in a shuddering breath, and inclined his head towards the Hobbits.

"Forgive me, master Hobbits. That outburst was uncalled for."

Pippin and Merry exchanged looks in the dying light. 

"I- it is difficult to explain."

Merry interjected, wiping the rain from his eyes. "You don't have to explain. It's not our business."

"It is too!" Pippin argued. "We're trapped in a hole with him, we should know what is going on."

"Pippin!" cried Merry, shocked. "Did you leave your manners back in camp? Let him be!"

"I think not!" The younger Hobbit bounded over and peered into the stricken face of the Elf. "What are you scared of?"

Legolas's eyes widened. "Scared?" he squeaked.

"Aye, scared. Afraid, terrified… you know. If it's something so terrible that a Big Folk like you is shaking in his boots then it's bound to make little 'uns like us keel over in fright. And I don't know about you, but I'd like to know what I should be scared of before I die." 

The heat of anger began to wash over Legolas, the natural response for a prince that had just been mocked. Bracing himself on the muddy wall, he rose shakily to his feet and glowered down at his small assailant. 

"Peregrin Took!" He snarled, his voice full of menace and the promise of imminent death. "I-" He paused.

"Yes?" Pippin asked mildly, clasping his hands behind his back patiently.

"I-uh-" It was no use. Legolas's mind had gone blank. With trembling limbs, he leaned against the hole's wall and slid back down to the ground.

_A curse on the Halflings and all of their kin and… and…_ Legolas stared into the eyes of Pippin. He couldn't carry through with his anathema.

Up to this moment, the Elf had little to do with the Hobbits, totally occupied with keeping a sharp eye out for the spies of either Sauron or Saruman, leaving the Ringbearer and his friends in the care of Aragorn and Boromir of Gondor. He had not noticed the sheer attitude that had pushed these little beings on through the cold, wet, and dangers of this journey. And now to have the full brunt of Hobbit-logic thrust upon him…He felt respect for the Hobbits grow. And it wasn't honorable to lie to someone for whom so much respect was held.

"When I was younger, I had an uncle who used to tell me tales. Terrifying stories." He drew in another deep breath and plowed on. "Stories of creatures made of shadow and flame. The… the Balrog."

"A Bal-whatsit?" Pippin asked, plopping down at the feet of the Elf. Merry joined him, holding the fading lantern in his lap.

"A Balrog. A creature that dwells in the darkest of the dark."

"Really? What does this Balrog do exactly?" inquired Merry, leaning his chin on the dirty lantern handle.

"What does he do?" Legolas was taken aback by the question. "What do you mean 'what does he do'?"

"In Hobbit tales, a creature usually has a purpose."

"I suppose… I suppose a Balrog… come to think of it, I am not sure. Scare Elf children, I would assume."

"Then it is merely a tale, nothing more?" Merry scratched his head thoughtfully. "A false tale."

Legolas shook his head. "Nay, the Balrog exists."

"And so you've been frightened about this creature of your childhood? How long has it been since you've last heard this tale?"

The Elf grew thoughtful. "I believe about several hundred years."

Pippin whistled through his teeth in amazement. Legolas shrugged, fiddling with the edges of his tunic.

"So is this... this Balrog. Is he indestructible? Has something like that ever been defeated?"

"Yes, it has been defeated, but at great cost." The Hobbits gazed at him expectantly. "The Balrog's life was ended, but it also brought down Glorfindel of Gondolin."

"Glorfindel? Like the Glorfindel of Rivendell?"

"My friends, that is quite a long story," Legolas said, warming, like all Elves, to the great tales of old.  "Would you like to hear it?"

"Of course! We wouldn't be Hobbits without tales around the fire." Merry sat the lantern in the middle of the small circle. "Tell on!"

It was at this time that the candle, which had been much put upon through the mud and the rain, finally sputtered and died, sending the hole into complete darkness.

"Ai!" shrieked Legolas, then clamped his hands over his mouth. That had not been prince-like, or Elf-like for that matter.

"Tell the tale," Merry persisted, trying to distract the Elf from the overwhelming darkness. As an afterthought, he flailed out his foot in attempt to strike Pippin into agreement. 

"Yeow!" Pippin grabbed at his shin and took his friend's meaning. "Yes," he squeaked in pain, "please go on."

"Th-the tale?"

"Yes. About Glorfindel. Surely you can't leave us in suspense."

"Glorfindel?" Something occurred in Legolas's brain. He was supposed to share that story, wasn't he?

"And the Balrog," chimed in Pippin. 

"Please, Legolas, do go on."

Legolas sighed and rubbed the back of his head. If a story would shorten this horrid night, then so be it. He gulped back the lump in his throat, then began.

The Hobbits sat silently, listening to the vivid descriptions of the glory of Gondolin and the bravery of the Elf lord Glorfindel. Slowly, the words faded into the night, swept on the winds of history and into willing minds.

**~TBC~**

**Thanks again! ^_^**


	4. What's Once Was Lost

**Acknowledgements:**To my beta, friends, and reviewers.

**Chapter 4: What Once Was Lost…**

Aragorn sighed as a fat raindrop plopped on to his nose, brushing it away with a flip of his hand. The previous night's rain had done significant damage to the tracks and signs he was trying to follow. Forest soil had been turned into a soupy mess, completely obliterating the prints of two lost Hobbits.

It annoyed him that he had to do the tracking by himself. As a Ranger, Aragorn had the skills of a Man who had spent much of his life in the wilds, surviving on the land. This did not mean, however, that he didn't appreciate a bit of help now and then. Unfortunately, the Fellowship members he had left back at camp were of no use to him. Neither Gimli nor Boromir were experienced in the tracking field and were liable to confuse the already jumbled signs. Gandalf seemed to be so lodged in his silent thoughts that Aragorn was loath to disturb him. Finally, the Ranger was certainly not going to risk the life of the Ringbearer to search for two foolish Hobbits. Luckily, Samwise was disinclined to leave his master, thus keeping him out of Aragorn's way. 

Legolas was nowhere to be found.

Cursing, Aragorn gently pushed aside branches, looking for a broken twig, a crushed plant, anything that might point him in the correct direction. Much of his present anger was directed towards the missing Elf, who had left him on his own. 

The two had already worked together in the tangled web of Mirkwood and had been quite successful in their ventures. Other than himself, Legolas was the best tracker that Aragorn knew, a combination of Elven senses and intelligence proving to be a valuable asset. Now, however… the Ranger wasn't sure how to explain the Elf's odd behavior. Unruly hair, various bumps and bruises, and the now infamous fall from the log bridge- none fit Legolas's personality. 

The Ranger shook his head. He didn't need to ponder another's troubles while he had plenty of his own. At the moment, his responsibility was to seek out two straying Hobbits and herd them back to the others. Wherever Legolas was, he could take care of himself.

The soil under his feet buckled slightly from his weight, revealing the beginning of a possible hollow space in the ground. Agilely, Aragorn leapt backwards to avoid the pitfall. 

_Odd,_ he mused to himself, stalking around the weak ground warily. _The dirt should not have sunk so much in a mere rainstorm. Perhaps an animal stumbled into the weakest area, created a hole, and became trapped. With a sigh, Aragorn drew his bow and notched an arrow. Fresh game was always a welcome commodity to the Company. At least this mission would yield something. _

Poking about the ground with his foot, Aragorn located the strongest area around the hole and crept forward, peering into the deep chasm in the earth. The sight both gratified and surprised him.

The two missing Hobbits were sprawled unceremoniously in the mud, their snoring raucous enough to disturb the dead. Aragorn lowered his bow in relief. But wait… he shifted his weight to peer deeper in the hole. 

The figure was so encrusted with drying muck that it was nearly impossible to distinguish it from the pit's walls. What drew the Ranger's eye was a glint of blond hair and pale skin shining through the reddish-brown mud. Legolas. Aragorn stifled the urge to laugh at the unlikely sight.

With his legs pulled to his chest and his arms folded on top of his knees, Legolas seemed to be staring off into the distance. Aragorn smiled and shook his head. Having spent most of his life around this Race, he knew a sleeping Elf when he saw one. 

"Legolas," he called softly, in a voice that he knew only the other's ears could pick up. Below him, the Elf stirred, closing his eyes in a decidedly un-Legolas-like yawn.

"Estel?" came the low mutter from the hole, "you certainly took your time."

**

After enduring several friendly insults to his person from Aragorn, Legolas eventually ended up beside his comrade, helping him haul out Merry and Pippin. The Hobbits blinked their eyes at the brilliance of the sun after the relative darkness of the hole.

"What happened to you?" Aragorn inquired, mussing Pippin's hair to rid it of the mud-turned-dust. Before Pippin could answer, Merry cut off his friend, sending a glare in his direction.

"We were looking for mushrooms. Mythical mushrooms, as it turns out."

"Not true!" protested Pippin.

"And the ground collapsed while we were looking, so here we are." Merry continued.

Aragorn nodded, then turned to Legolas. "And you? Were you out seeking mushrooms as well?" Legolas glared and sniffed.

"I believe you already know the answer to that," he replied, raking his loose hair from his face. "I simply fell in." The Man made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, which Legolas ignored. "If you will excuse me, my friend, I need some time alone." He turned and took a step towards into the trees.

"Legolas, wait," Aragorn reached out to grasp his friend's arm, his hand slipping off from the thick layer of mud currently encrusting that particular arm. "Is there something wrong?" Legolas inclined his head to glance backwards.

"No." At a second thought, he smiled and began disentangling himself from his quiver and his dual knives. "I will be fine. I would have you do two favors for me, though." Shifting back towards the Ranger, he removed his weapons and handed them over. "Take these back to camp for me. I shall return shortly. And," Legolas shrugged his shoulders to relieve them of cramps, "please, not a word to the Dwarf about this." Having said all that was needed to say, the Elf took off into the forest, not disturbing a leaf in his trail.

The wind generated from Legolas's sprint dried the mud to his face, but he couldn't have cared less. The sheer joy of racing through the woods, his most comforting environment, could help him ignore just about any inconvenience. He was still slightly awkward from his lack of sleep, but the rest in the hole had been enough to renew much of his former vigor and Elves are known for quick healing. Only another immortal would have been able to spot the inconsistencies in Legolas's movements.

A plethora of creek sounds bombarded his ears, causing him to run faster to reach his destination. Steadily the blue line grew between the trees. It was the same body of water that Legolas had fallen in yesterday. This far down, it appeared to be the size of a small river. With his last burst of speed, he reached the water's edge and jumped out as far as he could into the swirling stream. 

The cold water engulfed him. It freed his hair from its mud shell as he kicked to the surface, gasping for the breath the frigid stream had stolen from him. Refreshed, he worked his way to shore, shaking out his hair and wringing out his tunic.  

Something occurred to him then and he stopped, letting his feet squish into his boots. Casting his glance downwards, he located the longest, strongest reed among the grass and twisted it off at the stem. He then placed the very tip in his teeth and began peeling back the layers of dryness until he reached the strong innards of the plant. Smiling softly, he started his trek back to camp, twisting his new hair tie between his fingers. 

**~FIN~**

**Ack****, it's over. Hopefully that wasn't too unsatisfying. Stay tuned for a possible "Making of the Story" bonus chapter, if you are so inclined.**

**Again, thanks to all that read this. It's you that I'm doing this for. -_^**


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